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Blue Fire 4
Blue Fire 4 is an encounter in Kingdom Aflame. Enemies * Royalist Nord Warrior (Kingdom Aflame) (180 Gold, 180 XP, 180 Energy, 3 HP) * Royalist Nord Werewolf (Kingdom Aflame) (220 Gold, 220 XP, 220 Energy, 2 HP) Transcript Introduction "Another day or two," Tessa said. "Then this front should be safe enough." She bit into a wedge of cheese with a warrior's hunger but an aristocrat's refinement, and held her other hand out to the campfire. The wind had become chill since their last skirmish. It carried away the smell of death, but cut them to the bone in return for that kindness. "Where do we march next?" Rakshara asked. "That depends on our friends in the east. The chevaliers are fighting hard, but they're up against some of Crenus' best legions. If they're pushed back, we'll have to support them." "All this sodding back and forth," Hugh said. "It's like a bloody game." "The bloodiest." "Messenger bird," Paxon said. The gnome wasn't even looking upwards. He sat cross-legged, shoving a handful of berries into his mouth. The others saw nothing. But several seconds later, a squawk and a flutter of feathered wings heralded its arrival. The bird landed on Paxon Greengaze's head. He offered it a little piece of meat, which it snapped from his fingers, and unfastened its message with his other hand. Tessa popped the last of the cheese into her mouth and chewed it behind sealed lips as she accepted the missive. She unrolled it and read. Then she swore, and fragments of food rained forth. "%He%... %He%... Oh, gods damn it!" The slip of parchment fluttered from her fingers. Hugh grabbed it before it ended up in the fire, and read it while Tessa jumped up and strode across the camp. He swore in turn. --- Attacking Ralmarthan. Opportunity too good to miss. -- %name% --- *** Nevis turned this way and that. An open sling trailed from his hand, and a lead bullet felt like a little lump of fire between a palm and fingers slick with molten rivulets of sweat. He'd seen fighting before. Battle. Killing. But this was chaos. The other archers and slingers were somewhere else, dispersed through raging slaughter. Everywhere he looked warriors bled and died. The rebels were winning. Enemies fought in little doomed clusters or lay on the ground, screaming, while blades finished the work and their lives. "Nevis!" Chumgrak grabbed his shoulder. Yaealina and Ryli appeared at his other side. The felpuur hissed. "I tried to heal our injured, but we were overrun. We were meant to have support!" "No one knows what they're doing," the half-elf said. "We're fighting like a rabble of amateurs." "We are a rabble of amateurs," Chumgrak said. "But we usually have capable commanders leading us." "Theadric and the Kasan are in charge." Nevis spat on the ground. Ryli met his gaze, her eyes wide and curious. He said nothing. "They're fine warriors," the orc said. "Leaders too, in the right circumstances. But I suspect their martial ability and enthusiasm outstrip their sense of tactics and discipline. We need Carolyn and her peers." "What do we do?" Yaealina asked. "Before my formation broke down and gave itself over to wanton violence, we were going to head through those trees and flank the next position. I intend to carry out that duty. Care to join me?" *** "Crenus and Kveldulf!" The war cry bellows from a cluster of warriors in mail hauberks. "Nords?" you say. "Here?" "A clan allied with the king," Theadric says. "You sent them running from Nordent with their tails between their legs." "They aren't running now." The northern fighters lay about them with swords, spears, and axes -- skewering and hewing the rebels who hurl themselves at their formation. "We'll fix that, Kasan!" Theadric charges, and you're only a split-second behind. *** "I suspect that this foliage is rather denser than our superiors envisioned when they devised this plan." The orc swung his axe and smashed the bushes aside, clearing a path. Ryli and Nevis followed in his wake. Yaealina merely sprang through the undergrowth in a series of hops like a cat making its way over snow. "Crenus and Kveldulf!" "And those would be our intended foes..." Chumgrak stomped and hacked at the bushes. Ryli froze. Her ears turned atop her head. Her nose twitched. Pupils expanded and swallowed her eyes. "Wait!" the felpuur said. The orc stopped cleaving and the half-elf stopped leaping. "What is it?" Nevis asked. "Can't you smell it?" He sniffed. The orc did the same. "It smells like... dog?" the boy said. "That's... That's not dog," Chumgrak said. Something growled. Conclusion "Crenus and Kvel-" Your glowing blade slices into his hauberk. A harsh stench fills the air, as metal melts on either side of ensorcelled steel, and cooked flesh joins the melange. Another Nord swings his axe at your skull. But Theadric's there. He catches the shaft in a strong, unshakeable grasp, and puts his sword through the axeman's neck. "Back to back, Kasan!" You nod. The two of you pivot among the disarrayed Nords, cutting and thrusting. A dance of death. Opened throats and punctured hearts empty lives into the dirt. There's nothing quite like fighting alongside another great warrior. Even Rakshara, fearless and unstoppable as she is, has never anticipated your movements like Theadric does. His attacks and parries complement your own with such effortless perfection that you wonder if the two of you share blood. If not, you at least share spirit. "The blue wyrm watches!" you cry, relishing the anger it brings to the Nords' faces until death wipes it away. *** "Werewolves!" Chumgrak said. His voice drifted into Nevis' ears as though from a great distance, perhaps bubbling through dense and murky waters. The golden eyes with their narrow slits of pupil bored into him, consuming his senses, pinning him to an invisible wall. Furry lips drew back in a snarl, trailing long strands of saliva. And those teeth... The werewolf sprang at him. He couldn't even scream. A burly green body crashed into the lycanthrope. The monster hit the ground, rolled, and came up growling. Chumgrak moved between the boy and the beast, brandishing his huge axe. "Yaealina!" the orc said. "Busy!" the half-elf said. She ducked beneath the other werewolf's slashing claw and lashed out with her curved knife. The monster flinched, roared, and snapped at her head. She sprang backwards, somehow finding stable footholds between the clumps of vegetation. The lycanthrope advanced on her. But this time it was slower, more cautions. Blood trickled down its left arm. Nevis pulled his dagger out and turned a full circle. There were no more of the creatures. That came as little comfort. Ryli hissed, extended her claws, and grimaced. "Your daggers..." Chumgrak's axe crashed against the side of the werewolf's skull, with enough force to split a man's head in two. The beast merely rolled through the bushes and got up again. "Are they magic?" "Yes!" She ducked, weaved, and thrust. Blood spurted from her enemy's flank and trickled through its fur. "Good... Ryli, can you bless weapons?" The orc and lycanthrope circled one another. "No! Yydian isn't a god of war!" "Of course... Of course..." The wolf lunged and snapped its jaws. Chumgrak bashed it on the nose. The creature moaned, leapt back, and howled. "Nevis, you possess some silver." "What? I-" "The talisman." "Oh! Yes!" Nevis groped in his pouch and pulled it out. "But it's... It's not sharp! And it's not the right shape for my-" "Talismans seldom are. Throw it. Between me and the creature." "But what-" "Now!" Nevis tossed the silver disc. The werewolf lunged. Chumgrak cleaved. The orc's axe hit the talisman, and drove it deep into the lycanthrope's brow. The monster collapsed. Blood and squelched brain matter spilled out from its wound. This time it didn't get up. Nevis could only stare -- mouth agape. Chumgrak strode over to Yaealina, muscular legs crashing through the bushes, and cleaved her foe in the spine. This time the blade didn't penetrate the werewolf's hide. But the beast buckled beneath the heavy blow, its chest driven into the ground, and that was all the opening the half-elf needed. A magic dagger plunged through its eye. "I owe you a talisman," the orc said. Category:Kingdom Aflame